on the road again, heading away from the center of france meanwhile converting relationships with strangers into friendships. johan (yohan) was a great guy, born and raised in belgium. late twenties, thin and mannered, he now lived in auxerre. he was on his way back from a business trip to paris when he spotted us and didnt see us as a threat. driving into auxerre that night, we only caught a glimpse of the castles and cathedrals in the magical city. the three of us got along so well he took us in for the night, and even cooked dinner. flemish-french style pasta. he brewed us a pot of coffee and placed mini porcelain cups in reach on the four person table. i underestimated my tiny shot of concentrated coffee. we washed down dessert with vodka, appearantly it helps your digestive system, smoked a cigarette and went to bed. for breakfast johan bought us a baguette and a few crossaints and dropped us off next to a tollbooth. the brisk morning air was refreshing along with the crisp apples given away by the earth. the dew on the grass deteriorated our sign but it didnt affect us from getting a ride.
a dark volvo station wagon pulled over and the driver signalled us in. he spoke mostly french with broken spanish in between. we chatted on and when he got comfortable with the strangers in his car, he asked "le fume marijuana?"."un petite" i confessed. he made the global joint smoking sign and my grin confirmed his assumption. "de'accord" he smiled and pulled out his paraphanilia. he was driving so i naively offered to roll it." can you roll?" he asked in his language but i understood. "oui monsieur" i boasted, miguel adding to my hype in french. i thought piece of cake until he handed me kingsize papers, filters and tobacco. i wasnt used to this at all. by this time we were riding along winding hillcountry roads. up down left and right mixed together on pavement. i could only come up with a pathetic excuse for a cigarette. he chuckled at the sight of my inexperienced roll but it was smokeable so he lit it anyway. wow, wer'e actually doobie cruising out on the french countryside with this total stranger. maybe i was a little too influenced, but the scenery was incredible. farms, forests, and villages all clearly seen from afar. looking out the window i regreted storing my backpack along with my camcorder in the trunk, the footage would have been usefull. he dropped us off at a fast food joint in dijon and continued alone. our new host arrived to pick us up. he greeted us with a huge smile and showed us in his car. gregoire was wicked fun, vibrant with rythmn and raggea soul. humming, singing, snapping and dancing. on the ride to his parents home he was errupting with beatboxes every five minutes. we stayed in the center of the city in his ex flat with his ex flatmates, all students studying medicine at the university. that night i tried absinthe for the first time, sugar cube on fire and everything, then we all walked to a pub for a few drinks. 
the old architecture reminded me of mexico with a french tongue. we informed greg about our battery problem and he offered to put us up until it arrived. the next day his flatmates told us they were leaving town for a few days but we could still stay. i dont think we saw them after that. it was a week in their flat, spent exploring the cool little town unsupervised. at night we would roam the streets making friends and end up places.
in the day time, we followed arrows printed on the sidewalk for miles in search of the chuette, an antique statue of a good luck owl. to my surprise, the statue was only a few inches tall, dissapointing after an all-day urban trek. one of the days greg showed up with another couchsurfer and a couple of adolecents from belgium, lucas and arnaud. that night we almost got into a scuffle with a group of trouble makers. their group of morrocan-french vs. our new timid french-french friends. i couldnt make out whatthe angry moroccan said, but the tone in his voice got his point across and we split with the belgians. what is he holding behind his back? fuck it, goodnight. greg was also preparing for a trip only his would be a year long in south america. cool! we might be able to meet up in buenos aires. we joined in on the farewell party, which consisted of his talented friends jamming one last time before departure. our battery arrived which meant it was time to go. greg dropped us off at a roundabout and we were into another car in no time, france is great! through a series of rides we headed east towards munich, germany. there was just one big chunk of land mass in our way, they called it switzerland.
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